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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249658">Landmark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/icearrows1200/pseuds/icearrows1200'>icearrows1200</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Odd Couple (1968), The Odd Couple (TV 1970)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Arguing, Established Relationship, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Makeup Sex, Non-Explicit Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Relationship Crisis, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Emotional Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:27:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,552</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249658</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/icearrows1200/pseuds/icearrows1200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Years into an undefined, intense, but secretive relationship, Felix and Oscar face an ultimatum.  As usual, their differences incite an explosive argument.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Oscar Madison/Felix Unger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Landmark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oscar was accustomed to arguments with Felix. It came with living together as two individuals vastly different from one another. And it came, of course, with an emotionally and sexually intimate relationship that had arisen out of circumstance and stayed out of convenience. The level of commitment, too, arose from a sort of utility. Why bother talking someone up, taking her out to dinner over the course of a few weeks, and then—if she still enjoyed his company—asking her back to his place, when Felix’s bedroom was just across the hallway?</p><p>And, with the exception of the first few times they had slept together, there were no awkward mornings to be found, no silent tiptoed search for clothing in the predawn darkness (Felix was up before he ever was, anyway, brewing coffee and frying eggs). Oscar often worried that he was taking advantage of Felix’s generosity, and compensated for this insecurity by becoming more considerate than was natural for him. His propensity for dishes and chores were at best lackluster, and he therefore struggled to show his appreciation through acts of that nature; instead, Oscar made an occasional habit of planning small trips or surprises for the two of them. A cabin upstate, a bottle of Felix’s favorite wine, a night out bowling followed by a few hours of messing around on the couch while the television flickered late night game shows.</p><p>And despite all this, there were naturally times of disagreement, most often very petty, less often something genuinely severe, something that could not be repaired with a few hours of distance (or a few minutes of affection). This was one of those times.</p><p>It was nearing six o’clock in the evening and Felix hadn’t spoken to him since ten the night before. From the sound of it, dinner was almost ready. And, with a pang in his stomach after having skipped breakfast and gone to a deli for lunch, Oscar realized he was hungry. His plan had been to stay in his room all evening, to not give Felix the satisfaction of his presence. And his options now were to either stay in his room and go hungry or eat dinner with Felix. Alternatively, he could walk down the block and mope in a diner for a few hours. Even better (or worse), there was a somewhat less-than-sleazy bar a short cab ride away where he could plunge himself into blind intoxication.</p><p>The last one, he realized, after considering what Felix might have to say tonight, seemed like the most enjoyable and most practical. It would be easy to get roaring drunk on an empty stomach, after all.</p><p>There was a knock on his bedroom door. Evidently, Felix could hear Oscar’s thoughts from down the hallway, and the tone of his knock (Oscar could tell Felix’s knocks apart from each other now) indicated he had made plans to interfere with the trajectory of the evening.</p><p>The door opened a crack. Felix wore an apron and a scowl. “Dinner’s just about ready.”</p><p>Oscar stared at the ceiling. “I’m going out tonight.”</p><p>“Why?” Felix asked, phrasing it as if the question mark was not at all there. “I’ve made a perfectly good dinner.”</p><p>“You know why.”</p><p>Felix rolled his eyes and leaned into the door frame. “I don’t see why we can’t confront it like adults. Avoiding it won’t make it go away.”</p><p>“It will make it go away,” Oscar said. He was not interested in what words he was saying, more so in getting Felix to leave his room.</p><p>“No, it won’t,” said Felix. “It’s important to me. I won’t let it go away.”</p><p>“Get out of my room.”</p><p>“Let’s talk over dinner.”</p><p>Oscar groaned and stood up, pushing past Felix to the living room. Coat, keys, wallet, hat.</p><p>Felix trailed behind him. “You’re just going to leave?”</p><p>“I’ll be back.”</p><p>“Drunk, I bet.”</p><p>“Drunk, you’re right,” Oscar confirmed, pulling his coat over his shoulders. He took a glance at Felix’s face. “Oh, quit worrying. I don’t have to do everything with you. Give me some space.”</p><p>When Felix said nothing, Oscar took it as his cue to leave, turned the doorknob, and had almost stepped halfway out into the hallway by the time anything else was spoken.</p><p>“Why can’t you just say it?”</p><p>With an exasperated sigh, Oscar closed the door and turned around. He raised his hands noncommittally. “What difference would it make?”</p><p>“A lot, to me,” Felix said, and Oscar had the feeling he was being very, very candid.</p><p>“I’m not talking about your feelings,” he said, like a driver overcorrecting. “I’m speaking technically. If I said it, and I meant it, it wouldn’t change a thing about how we live or what we do.”</p><p>“Listen to you,” Felix said bitterly. “There isn’t anything <em>technical </em>about what I want, or what you want. You can’t turn this into a set of averages. I’m not a baseball team, I’m your lover.”</p><p>“Jesus fucking Christ,” Oscar winced. “Do you have to say it like that?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Then I’m leaving. I’ll be back… I don’t know. Late.”</p><p>Again, Felix stopped him. “So, I guess I’m supposed to take that as a <em>no</em>, then. You don’t feel the same way.”</p><p>“Think of it this way,” Oscar answered, because he couldn’t stand Felix having the last word. “What if we slipped up? Said it somewhere we shouldn’t. In front of someone we shouldn’t.”</p><p>“We <em>never </em>slip up,” Felix said darkly. “This wouldn’t be any different.”</p><p>“Why does it even matter?” Oscar asked again. He felt heat rise in his cheeks as his temper rolled to a boil. “We’re different, Felix. We don’t get those kinds of landmarks like other people do. We’re fucked up just by living like this— and I don’t want to <em>pretend </em>that what we’re doing deserves anything more than secrecy.”</p><p>Felix put his fingers up to his temples. “Is this where this conversation is going? Again? I’m sick of you wasting all your time and energy hating who we are—”</p><p>“This isn’t who I am—”</p><p>“Then why bother?” Felix scoffed. “If this is all just a hiccup in your life, a few years of shame and mistakes, how do you explain all the times you’ve had my dick down your throat?”</p><p>“Don’t be disgusting,” Oscar spat.</p><p>“Oh, now <em>I’m </em>disgusting! Alright. Then do it! If I’m just a stain on your long-line of sexual exploits, go out and find someone else to fuck.” The words hardly seemed like they came from Felix’s mouth. “See if I care!”</p><p>“Maybe I will. I’ll pick up some twink half your age and show him a good time. Doesn’t matter. And you know why, Felix?” Oscar waited a beat, but offered no inclination that he’d like a response. “Don’t think that just because I live with you and fuck you that I—”</p><p>“Fuck off, Oscar, you hear me? Fuck off.” There was vice in Felix’s voice, the usual soft intonations turning to steel until, at the end of the sentence, they snapped just as his voice cracked.</p><p>“You want me to fucking say it?” Oscar shouted with the full force of his lungs. “Fine! I love you. Happy? I’m not saying it again.”</p><p>Oscar fell silent, feeling the muscles in his face unwillingly untense and contort into a concern he wished he could silence. He leaned against the wall in defeat. Certain emotions were easier to deal with than other ones. Oscar liked anger for its explosiveness, the unpredictability, the volcanic release that might spew just about anything. Tears were a lot more indecipherable.</p><p>“You asshole. It doesn’t count now,” he said irreverently. “You didn’t mean it.”</p><p>“Course I did. Jesus Christ.”</p><p>“You yelled it. You only said it because I wanted you to.”</p><p>“Would it be better if I hadn’t said it?”</p><p>“I’m <em>crying.</em>”</p><p>“You are so difficult,” Oscar seethed. “This would have never happened if we had just let things stay the way they were.”</p><p>“Forgive <em>me</em>,” Felix returned with choler. “Forgive me for having feelings.”</p><p>Oscar resigned to the armchair. It was unlikely he’d be going out for dinner or drinks at this point. “I can forgive you for having feelings—everyone has feelings—but life is a whole lot easier if you keep them locked away.”</p><p>“So this whole time it was just about—what—the sex?” Felix balked. “I’ve spent all these years—yes, I’ll say it—<em>loving </em>you, and it turns out you took the most vulnerable person you knew and took advantage of him.”</p><p>“That’s not true,” Oscar said. He knew, to some effect, on surface levels, it was a truth of some form. It embarrassed him.</p><p>“Then say it.”</p><p>“I did!” Oscar cried. “But it didn’t change a thing, just like I said.”</p><p>“You are so dumb.”</p><p>Despite the gravity of the situation, Oscar cracked a smile. “I can’t win with you, Felix. Nothing I say will make you happy.”</p><p>“Nothing I <em>do</em> will make <em>you</em> happy.”</p><p>“Then,” Felix let out the air from his lungs. “Are we unhappy?”</p><p>Oscar considered this for a few moments. The clock in the kitchen ticked sadly. Dinner was probably cold by now. Oscar felt a thought, an idea, tug at the corner of his mind, one that had been there, tugging, unraveling the spindles of his mind, for years. With a wash of relief, he realized, very suddenly, that he had been, more or less, unhappy for a very large part of his life.</p><p>“I am unhappy,” he articulated slowly. “But not because of you. Never,” he continued, standing and putting a tentative hand on Felix’s shoulder. “Never because of you.”</p><p>When Felix did not respond, his lips parted slightly in what might be a half-thought or words unsaid, Oscar moved his hand from Felix’s shoulder to the crook of his neck. And then slowly, very slowly, Felix stepped into Oscar and completed the embrace. He wove his hands into the hair on the back of Felix’s head; he felt him exhale into his neck.</p><p>“What are we supposed to do?” Felix asked in a way Oscar could only describe as empty. Like his voice had been hollowed out of its richness, its soft, languid, curved words.</p><p>“Does anything need to be done?” Oscar answered. “I wish things could stay the way they were.”</p><p>He huffed sardonically into Oscar’s shoulder. “Oscar, how are we supposed to go on like this? If this doesn’t mean anything to you, if you’re just waiting for something better to come along, then I don’t see the point in giving and giving and giving.”</p><p>“I said things I didn’t mean,” he said, relaxing in Felix’s embrace.</p><p>“Did you say things you <em>did </em>mean?”</p><p>Oscar considered his response for a moment. He pressed his cheek to the top of Felix’s head. “Yes,” he said.</p><p>“I want,” said Felix, as if he had been holding his breath. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”</p><p>There was silence as Oscar let the words settle into his skin, tried them on for size, felt them ripple through his nerves like electrified lead. He didn’t know what to say.</p><p>“Doesn’t that make you feel anything?” Felix sounded heartbroken.</p><p>“It makes me feel a lot of things, Felix,” he answered after a moment. “But I don’t know how to turn my feelings into words. You know that’s always been difficult for me. My whole life. It’s not something I can learn.” Swallowing thickly, he pulled himself from Felix’s arms. “Would it be enough for you to just…know?”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Oscar. I still need to hear it. I can’t unlearn the way I am, either. What are you,” he began wetly. “What are you afraid of?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I’ve been this way my whole life.”</p><p>“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Felix promised. “I would never let anyone know. You know that, don’t you? Oscar, I am yours. Even if you threw me out, never talked to me again, I would never do anything to hurt you like that.”</p><p>Something cracked in Oscar. Something delicate, a thread pulled too tight, a fabric worn too thin. Like fiberglass spread apart. “Don’t you see?” He whispered. “It’s too much, Felix. I don’t deserve that. You, on the other hand, do. Quit bothering with me. I can’t give you what you need.”</p><p>Felix winced like he was in pain. “What do you suggest we do? Split up?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Oscar answered reflexively. “I don’t want to.”</p><p>“Why should we? We work well together—most of the time. We love each other, even if you can’t say it. I think that’s enough for me.”</p><p>“But it’s not.” Oscar felt sick, dizzy, like he had gone on a three day bender. It was horrible. “I want to…” he hesitated, searching for his words carefully. “I want to give you what you need, just like you do for me. I want to try. Do you think… you can wait for me? To figure it all out?”</p><p>“Of course I will,” he said instantly.</p><p>That wasn’t exactly what Oscar had hoped to hear. “Without compromising what you want. Felix, I couldn’t stand it if you were miserable. If I make you miserable, ever, then you’ve got to leave.”</p><p>“You don’t make me miserable. In fact, you make me extremely happy.”</p><p>“Do you promise?”</p><p>A nod. “Absolutely. I promise.”</p><p>“Good.” And though it was a resolution, it felt far more like a loss, a shroud of doom that he was just putting off until later. For a moment, he imagined himself floating above himself, the pang in his heart and his gut spatially distant from his mind. It was not until a teary kiss landed on his cheek and two arms wrapped around his neck that he returned to his body. He held Felix (or maybe Felix held him) fiercely for quite a while, concentrating on the thrum of his heart against his chest like an echo chamber.</p><p>They skipped dinner that night, but forgot about it in the throes of what quickly escalated to makeup sex in Felix’s room, a long-winded and deliberate affair concocted out of apologetic giving and receiving. He was drenched in sweat by the time Felix finished in him, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, chest rising and falling with exhaustion. And Oscar knew, he <em>knew </em>what Felix wanted so badly to say, what he had said only the night before under similar circumstances; and watched as Felix fought the words and let them retreat off his tongue and back into his mind. It was awful to watch.</p><p>It was even more awful to study the shadows on the ceiling while Felix cried quietly into his pillow and Oscar pretended not to notice. Now would be the time, if any, to say it, divorced from the spontaneity and passion of sex; <em>now, </em>it would really mean something to Felix. It would make a difference.</p><p>That was—</p><p>the terrifying part. If he said it and meant it (which he did he did he did), it would place a seal on Oscar’s identity he would be unable to remove for the rest of his life.</p><p>So he didn’t, even though he should have. Instead, he curled against Felix, spooned him, held him tightly and said</p><p>absolutely nothing.</p>
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